He Dreams of Lions
by Winnett
Summary: When Harry finds out something terrible might happen to Draco, how far will he go to assure he won't die?  Written for HDSBeltane fic exchange.  HarryDraco, RemusSeverus


**Title:** He Dreams of Lions  
**Rating:** R  
**Pairing:** Harry/Draco, Severus/Remus  
**Word count:** 18,000  
**Summary:** When Harry finds out something terrible might happen to Draco, how far will he go to assure he won't die?  
**Author's Note:** Thanks to my beautiful betas, KF, katilara, bewarethesmirk, and bonnie172. This story was inspired by Cluegirl's The Green Lion. Go read it, it is a wonderful fic. I do not own Harry Potter and am making no money from this production of fan fiction.

* * *

"Soon, Severusss. Soon we will move against Potter and the school, against those Mudblood loverss and traitorss to our race."

Severus continued to bow low to the floor with the dark clad assembly, his forehead resting against the dusty stones in some twisted form of obeisance. His iron will kept his body tense throughout the long meeting, not slouching or giving in any way. Severus knew that Voldemort hated shifting from his followers; he always said it was a sign of a shifty sense of loyalty. Pressed hard to the floor, Severus continued to listen as the Dark Lord explained his intentions to the assembled congregation. Usually, it was only until Voldemort felt his words had drilled themselves into his followers' brains with indelible fire did he finally cease his sermon.

"Severuss." Voldemort's sibilant words slid along his nerve endings, but still he did not shudder as his body yearned to do. "Stand, my General."

Severus finally rose from the floor, his back popped and muscles twitched in pain as blood finally returned to pinched vessels. He was an acknowledged individual amidst the long line of anonymous men and women. It was meant as an honor. Severus viewed it as a target. But that was a challenge he had persevered through these long years as the right hand man to the world's most evil wizard. His title, General, was another honor he'd earned since killing Dumbledore. An ever-growing pile of recognition that would eventually topple his will to live.

"Your wish, my Lord?" Severus asked, his head bent in respect, voice low and steady.

"Return to your roomss, and take your little pet with you. I will send my Bella to you with our next phase."

"Yes, my Lord." Severus dropped to one knee and bowed again, then stood and turned his back on the Dark Lord and lines of Death Eaters and strode from the assembly room. He was soon followed by another Death Eater, falling into place behind him at a respectful distance.

* * *

After every instance where he was forced to share time with that insane megalomaniac, Severus craved a moment to relax. _Stir left 12 times_. He needed to relax the steel in his nerves, the iron wall surrounding his mind. _Seventeen drops of asphodel._ And as was typical for the Potions Master, brewing was his form of relaxation. Not torture. Not killing. Not playing with his _toy_, like some believed, but the pure perfection that was creating a flawless potion, developing a fine distillation, designing portable magic.

The bottle of albatross blood sat just out of reach at the edge of his assembled ingredients. He moved for it, but before he could step around the table, another hand gripped the bottle and handed it to Severus. Severus took the bottle. _Three drops albatross blood_. Drip. Drip. Drip. Precise. Exact.

He didn't even bother to nod or grunt in acknowledgment for the help he received.

Finally, after the potion was set to stir and simmer, he stood, leaning back a bit to stretch his tired muscles, and looked over at the young man who sat quietly reading. Well, sat might be a bit generous. The young man was sprawled across the recliner; one leg tossed up over an arm, almost curled up like a cat, with a small book held loosely in one hand. Next to the chair containing the beautiful man was a table with two snifters of brandy. One was on the rocks, the other neat. Severus grabbed the one without ice and took an appreciative sip.

"What are your plans tonight, Draco?" Severus asked the young man.

Draco looked up through a thin veil of long, blond hair, almost white in its lack of pigmentation. He shrugged casually. Everything Draco did had a casual air about it; sometimes it infuriated Severus, other times--like now--he was too tired to care.

"I've nothing planned, Severus. Did you need me for anything?" There was a slight crook to his smile that could have alluded that anything really meant _anything_. Severus felt more than saw those eyes trail up and down his body. He sighed.

"Bellatrix will be delivering my orders soon. I know I will be gone for a few weeks, and I want you to join me," Severus said, taking another sip of his drink.

"What?" Draco asked, surprised enough to actually sit up in the overstuffed chair. "Don't you need me to stay here for you?" He sounded very excited.

"No. I'm worried about Macnair. He continues to presume he can make moves on my possessions and I'm afraid he might try to overstep his bounds and make a play for you." Severus gazed at Draco, giving him a very significant look that needed no interpretation, not that much needed interpreting between the two wizards anymore. They had been together as Master and Toy for years, ever since they fled Hogwarts, ever since Severus had killed Dumbledore when Draco couldn't. And Severus praised that day, praised the event as a day where Draco hadn't become a killer, foul and cold and living without a heart. As it was, Draco was the only thing left that kept Severus sane. Everyone believed Draco was his young lover. In fact, Draco was given to him as his toy, his _thing_ to play with as a reward, but Severus never touched him and never would.

"Severus, you know I can handle Mcnair," Draco said offhandedly. While Severus knew that Draco could certainly handle himself, he didn't want to deal with the aftermath if Draco killed him. Draco would not be a killer if he could help it.

"So, would you rather stay here then?" Severus asked, a slight quirk to the corner of his mouth.

"No! Take me!" Draco said, the innuendo not subtle at all. "Let me leave this hell hole with you." Draco smiled up at Severus, and it was one of those rare, sweet smiles that showed just how much the young man loved him.

"Good. I will leave it to you to deal with mooning Potter," Severus said, offering Draco his own form of smile, slight yet genuine.

"Bloody hell," Draco cursed. "When is that cow-eyed, thick-headed, oblivious fool going to finally realize I have no interest in him!?" Draco threw his hands up in the air and began pacing the room. "As if… "

"Draco, calm down." Severus had heard this rant before and internally reprimanded himself for goading Draco with Potter's unrequited crush. "You do not have to come if you don't wish to."

"No, I want to come… just… Do you really think anyone would care if I hexed him?"

"Considering that your poor excuse for a suitor is actually supposed to deliver us from our current situation, I certainly think _you_ would care if you hexed him."

"Just a little hex. I won't make him bleed. Much," Draco whined.

Severus wished he would focus his attentions towards someone receptive. Draco was, and always would be, a son to him. Plus, he could never be what Draco wanted… what he needed, and deep down Severus thought that Draco recognized that as well. They both knew that this odd devotion the young man had for Severus certainly kept him safe; kept his heart protected in isolation.

* * *

Snape and Draco would be showing up that night. The secure owl they received at dinner alerted Harry to their pending company and he paced the corridors of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place in anticipation. Snape was bringing Draco. Draco would be there soon. 

"Harry, would you mind helping me a bit?" Remus' words floated up the stairs from the landing below. Over the past few years it was mainly Remus and Harry who occupied the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Sure, other members came and went--it was practically always bustling with activity--but Harry and Remus lived there and had become close friends because of it.

Harry stopped before a full length mirror, off-handedly checking out his reflection before he descended the flight of stairs to help Remus. His hair still mimicked a bird's nest, but he couldn't seem to do anything about it. The minute he'd read the letter announcing the arrival of the two spies, he'd dashed upstairs to prepare himself, Remus' knowing eyes following him. He knew Remus had him pegged, but he couldn't be arsed to care much.

When he found Remus, the older man was standing before a huge crate filled with packing straw and various bottles and jars full of potion ingredients.

"Holy Hell, Remus. This is enough stock to make even Snape giggle in glee. A maniacal giggle, I'm sure, but a giggle nonetheless." Harry began helping Remus unpack the crate.

"Yes, well I wanted to ensure that we have a wide variety of ingredients so he can experiment with that new potion he's developing." Remus sounded eager, anticipation swimming just under the surface of his amber eyes, and Harry had to suppress his own knowing smirk. He was happy for his old professor, happy that the world seemed to have given up trying to make him miserable.

Remus handed him a jar of pickled quail eggs and Harry placed it on a high shelf next to other preserved bird bits. Next was a tube of some funky paste with a little picture of a fern-like plant on the label. Following that was a large container full of what looked like holey rocks, covered in a viscous, clear liquid. The label read "Moriarty's Fairy Lava," and Harry stuck that next to a bucket of coal and a small packet of amethyst and jade powder.

"How is his research going?" Harry asked curiously. He never did gain much interest in potions, but anything that might kill Lord Voldemort was certainly worth his notice.

"From his last correspondence I think he has most of the theory worked out. Now he just has to brew and test it."

"Test it? How the hell is he going to manage that?" Harry asked. "Is Voldy going to offer to be a guinea pig and let Snape test his nasty potions on him?"

Remus chuckled. "Actually, he's been collecting Voldemort's blood to test the potion on. It's infused with enough of his magic that it should suffice. If not, well, we'll cross that mountain when we reach it."

Harry hummed thoughtfully to himself. He tried not to let hope build, any hope concerning the destruction of the Dark Lord. He didn't want to jinx himself.

A chime rung through the air and the men looked up at each other, both with matching expressions of delight. "Our guests have arrived," Remus said, a smile on his lips.

Harry grinned back. "Shall we greet them?"

The two Gryffindors stood and walked through the manor, footsteps echoing into the distance as they walked towards the door to welcome their Slytherin guests.

* * *

Though it was quite unfitting for a wizard of his status to hide, Draco had to admit there was a certain foresight into exactly how he positioned himself behind Severus when the door to Grimmauld Place opened. He stared long and hard at the back of Severus' dark robes, ignoring everything and everyone. 

"Snape," Harry said curtly.

"Hello Severus, come in," Remus greeted the man.

Draco skulked behind his mentor, but knew he couldn't hide for long as Severus' long strides removed his form from blocking Draco from the view of the other two wizards. "Hello gentlemen," Severus said. Damn, if Severus didn't sound snide. And more snide than usual. He was enjoying this, the bastard.

"Draco!"

God. Did he have to sound so excited? Draco finally tore his eyes off the safety of the black cotton and glared at Potter.

"It's good to see you," Potter said, eager like a puppy. Draco didn't answer; he only rolled his eyes and looked over at Lupin, who wore a matching eager-puppy look, though admittedly not as blinding and brainless.

"Come in. I'll make some tea," said Lupin with a warm smile at Severus. Draco watched as Severus returned the smile with his own modest one. Jealous anger flared within him.

Admittedly, Draco knew that there was no way Severus would ever look at him that same way. He couldn't imagine that Severus _loved_ Lupin, but he definitely cared for him, and not in a fatherly way like he cared for Draco. Draco was doomed. Normally he would never admit defeat, but the past few years as Severus' _toy_--untouched toy mind you--had finally convinced him that a ferret in a hippogriff corral had a better chance.

Still, he hated, _hated_ that Lupin was there for Severus. Sometimes when he tried to delude himself, he would imagine that if Lupin weren't in the picture, Severus would finally turn to him. Embrace him. Unfortunately, Draco was too honest with himself and would admit that such a delusion was a comfort he couldn't afford. Not with the war. Not with a crazy man at large trying to rule the world.

Draco had no chance. He knew it. But that didn't mean these mind games didn't offer some warmth to his cold, lonely nights or that he would stop constantly tearing his heart out with false hopes and wishful thinking. The glory that was his existence.

"Tea?" The inquiry startled Draco out of whatever maudlin fairy land he'd been touring and he looked at the cup full of tea with cream, just the way he liked it, and that stupid look plastered on Potter's face. Draco sighed and took the tea, too tired to sneer and appear annoyed. It didn't matter anymore. He would resign himself to living a loveless, virginal life and die a fitting, yet hopefully heroic, death. Alone. In a bloody, gory mess.

"Is it good?" Potter asked. Draco realized he must have been spacing out again. He turned from Harry without saying a word and sat at the table next to Severus, who was speaking to Lupin.

Potter quietly sat as well. Next to Lupin, far away from him. Draco sighed his relief.

"And powdered bicorn horn?" Severus asked, looking over a list on a parchment he'd unrolled.

"Yes, we have it all, Severus. Trust me. Harry and I were just putting everything away when you arrived."

Severus darted his eyes over at Potter, who just sat there with an oddly blank look on his face. Seemed Draco's wasn't the only mind on vacation today.

"Harry?" Lupin asked.

Potter jerked in his chair and stared over at his friend. "Wha…?" he asked. His mouth was slightly hanging open, giving him a strong resemblance to a flobberworm. "What?" he finally asked more firmly when nobody said anything.

Lupin smiled. "Just wondering what planet you were currently on. Severus and I will be retiring to the laboratory to review his theory and plan out the first step to the potion. So, please entertain Draco if you wouldn't mind."

Draco glared over at Lupin. Why the hell that half-blooded _werewolf_ felt it was his privilege to call Draco by his first name, he didn't know. And he didn't need entertaining like an errant boy of five. Lupin always tried to act so friendly and familiar, as if years of animosity and grudges would just fade away because they were on the same side in war.

"Okay," Draco heard Potter say, far too excitedly. Draco grunted at the truly trying moments of his life.

The two older men left for the laboratory, leaving the younger men in a bed of silence.

"So…" Potter said. Draco looked at him, bored and depressed. "Would you like to play some chess?"

Draco shrugged. He didn't have anything better to do. "Fine, Potter. But you get one game, and one game only, and then I will find some nice quiet corner, _away from you_, and wait for Severus until we can leave this pit."

It really wasn't a pit, it was actually quite comfortable compared to the Death Eater compound; it was just Potter that made it unbearable. Potter's fawning. Potter's willingness to let the past fall to the past. Idiot.

* * *

Harry knew he was no Ron when it came to chess, and honestly, he wasn't a Draco, either. A fifth year student off the street could probably beat him at chess, so he had to devise another plan to drag this game out as long as magically possible. Now magic, on the other hand, Harry excelled at. He quickly set about devising a plan to thwart Draco's quick annihilation of him on the board. 

First, though, he would fulfill his role as gracious host. "Did you need more tea? I can cook up some fish and chips as well, if you'd like," Harry offered with what he thought as his most disarming grin. He was slightly disheartened when Draco only rolled his eyes at him and sighed _again_. Sheesh, you would think this guy was forced to listen to portions of the Welsh epic, the Mabinogion, recited every night for a hundred years.

"I'll be in the library," Draco said and left the kitchen. Harry stood there and watched as the Slytherin left him with a kettle in one hand and his heart in a numb daze.

"Bloody hell," Harry mumbled under his breath, scratching at his scar. Should he follow or should he make fish and chips? Sodding git. Fine. He would play chess now and skip food, he wasn't hungry anyway.

Harry thought quickly on what to do next to keep the beautiful blond in his presence for longer than it would take him to trounce him in chess. If only he'd charmed his chess pieces to actually play for him… then he might have a chance. He would put that on a 'to do' list for Ron's next visit.

_Hmmm_, he thought to himself. _What would keep Draco here? What is he interested in? He used to like Quidditch. And Potions-- _Harry shuddered. He couldn't only talk Quidditch and Potions with Draco. What if… Yes! He had it! Harry ran up to his room to prepare a distraction to keep Draco involved longer than any chess game that Harry could play.

* * *

"Thank Merlin you have Granger and Lupin to plan the attacks on Voldemort. If it were up to you we would all be sacrificed unnecessarily for minimal gain." Harry watched as Draco moved his knight to take his bishop. Damn. He hadn't seen that. It hadn't even been a purposeful sacrifice like he'd alluded to when Draco took his last rook. He was really pants at chess. 

Where was his distraction?

BANG!

Right in the nick of time. Harry eyed his remaining pieces, knowing it wouldn't have taken Draco long to wipe him out.

"What the hell?" Draco asked, rising from his seat at the chessboard.

A small monster appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the room. It was squat and round, almost a ball with arms and legs, and it sported tiny, flittering wings. "GRROW!" it bellowed at the teenagers. "Spurpt!"

Draco cursed some more and Harry chuckled to himself. It still had a vaguely Quaffle like appearance, and the Snitch's wings were far too small for its body, but he was still impressed with his own quick Transfiguration skills.

"Merlin's balls, Potter. You didn't tell me this place was still infested. And what the hell is that thing?"

That thing squatted down, shat upon the ornate carpet, and then picked up its feces and threw it right at Draco. Harry had to swallow his surprised snort. When he'd charmed it to irritate Draco, he'd had no idea it would go this far.

"You little shit!" Draco screamed, quickly charming off the offensive smear. Harry couldn't help it; he laughed at the irony. "What are you laughing at, Potter?"

"It's just that… What you said…" Harry gripped at his sides as he slid to the floor laughing. The monster quickly popped away. Phase One: Get Draco's Attention. Complete.

"Potter, make yourself useful and help me find that little monster." Phase Two: The Chase. Right on time.

"Fine, Draco. I guess I'll help." Harry inwardly cheered.

The two young men eyed each other, and then Draco turned away and left the room, wand out, ready to hex anything about to throw disgusting substances that could ruin his perfect appearance.

Chuckling under his breath, Harry climbed to his feet and followed behind, momentarily distracted by the firm backside right before him. He thanked the powers that be that inside the manor Draco didn't wear robes.

Draco led him down the hall, commando style liked Harry'd seen on television. Where Draco learned this, Harry had no clue. Draco would sneak up to a corner with his back plastered to the wall and then quickly leap into the hallway, wand held out like a deadly bayonet. Harry casually strolled down the center of the hallway behind him, completely entertained, but admittedly bewildered.

"Draco, what the hell are you doing?" he finally asked.

"What do you mean 'what am I doing?' Isn't it obvious? Seriously Potter, I think you _will_ doom us all. Here you go, walking out in the open, a perfect target for the beastie. Well that is fine by me. Let him throw shite at you, for all I care. Ah! There's the little bugger!" Draco yelled as he ran down the hallway. Harry could hear the little monster blathering at Draco, and then he trotted after, not wanting to miss the show.

Draco cast a bright hex towards Harry's monster, who deftly shot up its oversized paws and the hex splattered against them, as ineffectual as a water balloon. Harry's eyebrows shot up, that was unexpected.

The Quaffle monster, as Harry unconsciously titled it, jumped into the air, flipped over and a bright blue light grew and blasted from the tiny wings. "Draco!" Harry yelled and tackled Draco from behind, taking the full blast of blue energy in his left shoulder.

Holy hell! What in Merlin's name had he created? His shoulder sizzled as the energy coursed through the muscle and bone. The smell of cooked meat and burnt cotton filled his nose. A groan slipped from his gritted jaw.

"Potter, what the hell do you think you're doing? Get the hell off me." Draco pushed at Harry, forcing the other wizard to roll off him. In the process of his roll, Harry's shoulder hit the floor.

"Crap!" he yelled, gripping at his tender flesh. A thick, warm fluid slowly seeped out, coating his hand and arm. It didn't smell like blood.

"Oh, shite," Draco said, his voice oddly soft. "I'm so… Stay down!" This time Draco landed on top of Harry--whose brain tried to register he had a very warm, very firm Draco on top of him--as another blue ball flew down the hallway. Its course twisted and blew up the far wall, taking out a 300 year old painting of Fletcher the Alchemist.

The Quaffle monster giggled, a high and gruff noise, and then ran off down the stairs.

"Potter, you okay?" Harry tried to respond, but couldn't form any coherent words. He had no energy, all of it seeming to have seeped out of his wound. "Potter?!" Though he couldn't find the strength to speak, his hearing worked quite well and he noted a tinny tone to Draco's words. "Harry?!" Draco said, now sounding on the verge of panic as he shook Harry roughly, causing his shoulder to hit the floor again, and in a final flash of pain, he passed out.

* * *

He was nestled down in a comfy bed with a warm blanket spread across his body. That was the first thing he'd noticed. The second thing was the fact that he couldn't feel half of his body. The left half. Shoulder down to hip. Did he have an arm? He tried to wiggle the fingers and felt nothing. 

"Harry?"

Harry struggled to open his eyes and found them gummy and burning with fatigue. "Remus?" he replied. "What happened?" He remembered the Quaffle monster, but certainly something he'd Transfigured couldn't have screwed him up this badly.

"Actually, we're not quite sure. Draco said there was some beast that had attacked you two, but we couldn't find anything. We searched the entire house. Do you know what it was?"

Harry struggled to swallow passed a thick ball of dry phlegm in his throat. "Yeah…" he said contritely. "Umm… It was something that…"

"Oh good, I see Mr. Potter has decided to join us today." Leave it to Snape to interrupt him. Actually, Harry was thankful of Snape's good timing. He was rather ashamed at the entire cock-up of his stupid plan to gain Draco's attention.

But then Harry thought about what Snape had just said. "Today?" he croaked.

"Harry, you've been unconscious for three days," Remus explained in his fatherly tone.

"What?!" he said, alarmed, pushing himself up with his one good arm. Three days. Snape and Draco would be leaving today. He missed out an all of that Draco time. Damn it. He huffed to himself and then gave up sitting in favor of slumping back into the cushy pillows.

"Potter, drink this potion." Snape stuffed a glass jar into Harry's hand. "Whatever attacked you hit you with pure magical energy that seemed determined to consume your arm. Luckily, Draco retrieved us in time to stop the corrosive nature of the curse. Fortunately for _you_, you aren't dead. Lupin, I will return in three weeks." And with a crisp nod and a swirl of his robes, Snape left.

"Remus, I can't move my arm," Harry said as he watched his ex-professor stalk out of the room.

"We have it in stasis. You've sustained incredible damage, Harry. Severus has been continually brewing potions that adjust to the level of your injury. He thinks you will have complete use of your arm again once it's healed, but right now we don't want to risk it. You are to stay here, in this bed, until it's healed," Remus said sternly.

"Fine," he said sullenly.

Remus moved to the other side of the bed and reached for Harry's sleeve. He began to roll it up his arm. Harry watched on in interest, marveling at the weird sensation of not being able to feel his arm but seeing it right there next to him. He gasped at the angry mass of scar tissue and purple flesh as it came into view, shaped like a lion's head with flowing mane. Like a living thing, it seemed to writhe and squirm, pulsating with overwhelming magic. In that movement it almost seemed like the lion roared.

"My God." Harry's low words were all that disturbed the quiet as Remus rubbed a yellow compound all over the wound, who flinched as the crackle of energy bit at his fingers.

How had he done this to himself? His little experiment of Quidditch balls glued together with a few charms had certainly flopped in an astounding way.

Now he was maimed, bed ridden, and totally missed his time with Draco. Mother loving hell.

"How's the research going, Remus?" Harry asked, attempting to take his mind off of the dead limb.

Remus' eyes darted up to meet his, and he was shocked to see guilt and worry in them. But as quick as he saw it, it was gone and Remus smiled. "We think we have a few leads, but we came upon a rather sizeable obstruction that we are attempting to deal with."

"Really, what?" Harry asked.

"Don't worry about it, Harry. We'll work it out." Remus sighed as he rubbed the last of the ointment in. "Well, that should do it. I'll send Draco up later to see if you need anything." He began screwing the lid back on the jar.

"What? Draco's here? Didn't he leave with Snape?" Harry asked eagerly.

"No, Severus is leaving him here while he's busy with whatever dirty work he's doing for Voldemort." Remus sounded sad and Harry reached over to pat him awkwardly on the arm as the man stared at the jar in his hands. With a shake of his head, Remus seemed to toss away his momentary melancholy and looked back up at Harry. "So Draco is pouting downstairs, doing his best to avoid me and you. He'll certainly have a wonderful few weeks."

Harry just nodded vaguely. Draco was here. For the duration that Snape was off doing whatever… Draco was right here. His heart beat a little stronger, a little faster and he couldn't help the grin that popped onto his face. Remus just shook his head and chuckled at Harry.

They were silly men, Harry knew. Lions with their eyes on serpents.

* * *

Fifteen paces long, eight paces across. Draco had mapped the library out in his bored march of the stacks. They were piled with books of charms, most of which he'd already studied, some potions texts, and those focusing on the Dark Arts that hadn't yet been destroyed. The book stacks had impressed him at first, but now they were just a pretty lining for his gilded cage. He felt trapped. When would Severus finish his stupid assignment and get him out of there? 

He'd been gone for two days.

Two whole days.

And in those two days he had to deal with Lupin's perky nature and his constant nagging that he should go and talk to Potter. Why in the world would he want to talk to that idiot? He hadn't gotten that desperate yet.

He looked out through the stained glass window into the bright light of the afternoon. The colored glass pieces depicted a scene of a rising sun over red fields of poppies. It was a fragile image of hope and dawning promise.

Draco turned left and took a step. One. Two. Three. Four.

Maybe if he took shorter steps, it could make the room be twenty paces long. Make his cage grow.

* * *

Almost a week passed before Draco, in a complete huff, finally entered Potter's room. When he walked in, the room was dark and he heard a light snore come from the bed. It was his moment of surrender and the idiot Gryffindor was sleeping. Draco was quite tempted to hex him or spell his hair blue, or perhaps even poke that nasty scar. Anything to get back at him for the boredom he'd been inflicted with and his confinement in this damned house while Severus was off doing dangerous and daring things. 

But now that he was here, he didn't really want to leave. He wanted Potter to entertain him.

He cleared his throat, doing a subdued imitation of Umbridge.

The lump on the bed continued to breathe that soft, snuffling snore.

He cleared his throat louder, "eh hem," and added a cough for good measure.

The lump moved a little, but still snored.

Damn it. "Potter, wake your sorry arse up."

Potter shot up from horizontal to a fully upright, sitting position in an instant, his eyes owlishly looking around in alarm.

"What!?" he asked in a panic.

"It is time for you to get busy living, Potter. You've been sitting here in this bed, breathing air and eating food and doing nothing with yourself. Lazy sod. Get your arse out of that impressive butt print you must have molded into the mattress and do something, oh Wizarding Savior, or I might off you myself just to end this incredibly trying stalemate the wizarding community's been stuck in."

There, that sounded demanding. Surely Potter would argue with him, sputter incoherently and then finally break down into hexing him so Draco would have a more solid excuse at retaliation. Draco eagerly awaited the upcoming diversion.

"What?" Harry asked.

"What do you mean, 'what'?" Draco said, more than a little shocked at the lack of venom.

Harry rubbed at his eyes with his right fist and reached for his glasses. "I mean, what the hell are you talking about? Remus told me to stay in bed, and my arm's still in stasis, so it's not like I can do much with it." He shrugged like Draco's demands hadn't ruffled him in the least.

"What have you been up to?" Harry asked, as if they were friends and discussed such things, like their daily highs and lows and what they had for lunch.

"Nothing," Draco heard himself replying. He even sounded peevish, almost pouty.

"Umm, did you see that monster around anymore?" Harry asked while he fiddled with the edge of the duvet.

Draco stepped farther into the room and sat down in an antique chair next to the bed. "No. Lupin and I searched for it, but we couldn't find anything. He had a theory that it might be a timed Dark artifact, only activated by certain triggers but otherwise remaining dormant." He glanced around the room, looking everywhere other than at his rival in his convalescence.

"Do you fancy a game of chess?" Harry asked him. Draco finally let his eyes land on the other man. He looked eager, but not that puppy-dog eager fanaticism that drove him crazy.

"Fine, Potter. But I won't go easy on you just because you're an invalid." He lifted his wand and _Accioed_ the chess set and pieces, which all flew into the room and organized themselves primly in regimental rows on the table next to Potter's bed.

Three games later—where he firmly trounced the strategy-handicapped Gryffindor each time—Draco had grown bored of chess. Plus, he realized he'd spent _three_ games in Potter's presence and hadn't once thought to hex him. Unnerved, Draco stood. "Well, that was no challenge." With a flip of his hand he turned and left the room, leaving Potter alone again.

He retuned the next day and beat Potter at another three games, then they talked about Quidditch for about a half hour before Draco fled.

The following day he brought Harry some fish and chips—at Lupin's insistence—and the teenagers talked about school and summer hols, and even a little about a possible future without Voldemort. It was a completely different universe that Draco found himself in, and he was completely lost.

* * *

Lying in bed, Harry stared up into the dark corners of the canopy. Soft light filtered in through the drapes on the windows, but the room was still swathed in shadows. He'd been awake for about an hour now and he kept thinking about his odd luck. First, he ended up almost killing himself by creating a monster, literally, and then he got to spend more time with Draco than he'd ever had before. And Draco and he were getting along. Friendly like. Harry couldn't believe it, it was all so surreal… unreal. It was his dream come true… well, one of many dreams. 

Remus said that he would release his arm that afternoon, but he had to keep it in a sling for a while longer. He no longer took the potion, though Remus still rubbed that smelly gunk on it regularly.

He rolled his head over and stared at his ruined shoulder. He ran a finger over the gnarled tissue. Even with magic, such wounds would never heal completely. Not with a catalyst that crackled and burned and was fueled by magic. He counted himself lucky that the curse light hadn't hit his head… or Draco. Really, it could have been so much worse.

A soft tap on the door announced Remus' arrival.

"Hello Harry, how are you doing?" he asked, poking his head into the bedroom.

"Great, Remus. Ready to be free of this spell. I want to _move_. I'm so antsy!" Harry wiggled in the bed to stress his point. Remus entered the room chuckling, and then without further fuss, cancelled the stasis.

Harry flexed his shoulder, rolling it over and over to work out the stiff muscles. It looked like he would have full use of his arm, but he would always be able to tell when a storm was moving in or there was a large concentration of magical energy. He was forever changed.

Remus questioned how his arm felt and Harry dutifully answered everything until he caught a whiff of himself. There was only so much that a Cleaning charm could do.

"I think I need shower," Harry said jovially.

"I'll have breakfast ready when you come down," Remus offered. Harry nodded at the man and entered the bathroom.

Harry stripped down and started the water flowing. The showers in Grimmauld Place were quite fancy, but sometimes the temperature was a bit temperamental. He tested the water with his palm and after some minor adjustments, stepped into the water.

Holy shite! The water burned his shoulder. It scorched, like molten rock had been dripped all over the scar tissue and was slowly melting his flesh. He screamed, scrambled out of the shower, slipped on the tile floor and landed sharply on his back.

Ow.

He looked over at his shoulder, certain he would see something terrible and disgusting but saw nothing but the same raw flesh, only a little redder than before. Harry cringed at this newly discovered temperature sensitivity of the wound. Add that to his list of new annoyances.

Slowly, he rose to his feet, rubbing at his back where he knew a bruise would be developing in no time. He spelled the water colder, much colder, and stepped in again. Goosebumps flared up all over his skin, but his shoulder didn't protest, and slowly he increased the heat to make every part of his body happy.

Life never came easy for him.

After his shower he dried off, dressed and headed downstairs. As he approached the kitchen he heard soft speaking and he stopped to listen as Remus and Draco were chatting about the Black family tree. Chuckling, Harry pushed past the door and smiled at the two men sitting at the table. And both smiled back.

The world tilted.

"Hello Remus, Draco," Harry said, grinning and showing off his free-moving arm by waving at them.

"Oh yes, the Boy Savior can finally wave his arm about like a beauty queen. We are all saved now," Draco drawled. Remus stared over at Draco and then back at Harry. Harry stood for a moment and then laughed, a full-bodied, hearty laugh, and Draco smiled in return.

"Elbow, elbow, wrist, wrist, wrist," Harry said, mocking the parade wave. This time, Remus laughed, too.

* * *

"Another game?" Harry asked, quite hopefully, but not holding his breath. Draco had already played three games with him, and that seemed to be his limit. 

"I guess," Draco said, sounding a little tired. He ran his hand through his hair and Harry watched on as it threaded through his fingers and floated back into place. It looked as soft as angel silk.

A breathless moment slipped by. Then Harry slowly leaned forward and lifted his hand to capture some of those shimmering stands, running the hair through his fingers. Harry stared into Draco's eyes; the other man looked completely caught off guard, eyes wide with shock. There was no sign of the blond's usual sneer or contemptuous derision. Harry wasn't sure what he was doing. He didn't want to push Draco, but his hair had just pulled him in, hypnotized him and he reached up to pet it again, but Draco stopped him.

"Potter, would you stop that." The sneer. The derision. It was back. But it was forced. There was a moment of stillness where only the tick of the clock and the thick thudding of blood in his ears cut through it. Still, Harry pulled back.

"Your move," he said, voice showing none of the nerves he struggled to hold in check.

Draco stared at Harry through his pale lashes, his eyes shrewd and sharp. Then his features relaxed and a soft, quirky smile settled on those lips, and he moved his pawn up a space. "Fine. If you want to lose, again."

It was strange; Harry wondered if Draco had ever been anything but snide and condescending? When had things changed and why hadn't Harry noticed when it had? With a shy smile he moved his pawn and shrugged. If it meant more time with Draco, he would lose and lose and lose.

* * *

He'd sunk so low. So very, very low. 

What would Severus think if he were to step into the house right this instant and see him lounging on the settee listening to a werewolf read some old, randy Irish limericks and watching Potter rolling on the floor, holding his gut as he laughed at each and every one.

What would he think?

When would he return?

Out of the blue he asked, "Lupin, have you done any further research on that potion you and Severus were working on?" Potter's laughter trickled away as the man struggled to catch his breath. Lupin glanced up at Draco from the little book in his hands.

"Actually, yes. But I'm not taking any chances with it until Severus returns." Draco tried not to notice the hint of worry in the older man's words.

"When is he going to get back?" Draco asked.

"Don't know," Lupin said softly. "He said he would only be gone about three weeks, but it's past that already."

"Are you worried?" Potter asked Lupin. Trust that blundering fool to not know when to shut his mouth.

"Of course. But I'm sure he can handle himself," Lupin said with a small smile. Ah, sodding Gryffindors. Always ready to buck up against any sign of hopelessness. Ever buoyant were Gryffindors. Such simple creatures.

But he found a certain charm in that simpleness and a certain reliance on that buoyancy.

Oh, how far he'd sunk.

* * *

Charms tinkled through the air as the three men were finishing their midday meal. 

"He's back!" Draco exclaimed as he leaped from his chair and ran out into the foyer. Remus stood almost as quickly and followed Draco out. Harry continued to sit there and stare at his half-eaten sandwich and pile of chips.

Snape was back.

* * *

Grimmauld stood stark and lonely before him. Severus peered down the empty street and then returned his scrutiny to the front of the building. The curtains were drawn and no movement could be sensed from within, the manor simply waited, looking cold and dead. The place sparked in him a sense of unwanted seclusion. 

That was, until he walked through the door and was greeted by two of his favorite people, though fat chance of him ever admitting that to anyone.

"Severus, you're back!" First he was bombarded by Draco's brilliant smile. His eyes seemed bright and the boy's entire face glowed with happiness. When had he last seen Draco so open? Certainly not in the last few years since the incident on the Astronomy Tower. The young man had always kept a heavy shield about himself, as was proper for any Slytherin worth his salt.

"Good to see you, Severus." His second greeting, while less enthusiastic, was just as warm. Severus looked up into Remus' eyes and saw the relief and welcome that they always seemed to hold whenever Severus returned from a mission.

Severus nodded at each in return, wondering where Potter had gone off to, not that he really expected him to come bounding from the kitchen in greeting like the others. But a noise from the hallway drew his attention, and he looked over and saw Potter watching him.

"Welcome back, Snape," the boy said. Harry smiled at him, but it was a sad smile. Severus noticed that he still wore the sling, but at least it looked like he could use his arm.

"Yes, yes. I'm back," he said dismissively. He was very tired and he just wanted to rest. He had to test that potion soon. The operation he'd been forced to participate in for the Dark Lord had laid final plans for the assault on the British Wizarding world at large. He had to act first. He had to act fast. But first, he needed some time to brew, just a moment to clear his mind.

"Remus, I intend on retiring to the laboratory. Perhaps you would care to review the steps in preparing the Wolfsbane potion?" He watched Draco out of the corner of his eye and noticed the young man's shock at the invitation.

"Certainly, if I wouldn't be a distraction," ever sensible Remus said. Severus snorted at him.

"I wouldn't have invited you if you were a distraction." He locked eyes with Remus and a pink glow suffused the other man's cheeks. He chuckled to himself. "Well, shall we?" he asked as he walked past Draco.

"Oh, and Draco," he said, almost as an after thought. "I would like to talk to you tomorrow, if you have the time. Early. Will that do?"

"Yes, Severus," Draco said stiffly. Severus didn't turn around, but just continued on. He needed to tell the boy what he knew about the potion. Let him prepare himself for the inevitable situation they had found themselves in.

With Remus following behind, he descended to the laboratory.

* * *

Something was definitely up. Harry watched on as Snape and Remus left for the laboratory. And it wasn't just the flirting… _flirting_, that Snape had accosted Remus with, there was something else there. Or perhaps it was the flirting that had alerted Harry to pay attention, to notice the subtle signs. Snape was worried. Snape was resigned to something. Snape almost looked… defeated. 

It wasn't that Snape was his friend… but he wasn't his enemy either. He was an incredible wizard and a brilliant man. Harry just had no soft spot for him; he long ago realized he didn't want a soft spot for the man who would be his spy. Harry knew that Snape had given up everything, _everything_, to be where he was now, for good or for bad, and had long ago given up on any hate for the man.

After Snape and Remus had left, Draco mounted the stairs for his room. He seemed deflated, like he'd found out the tooth fairy wasn't real and the constellation hadn't been named after him. Harry wanted to go to him, but knew that Draco wouldn't want him there.

And anyway, he needed to find out what was going on.

He ran up to his room and grabbed an Extendable Ear, adding a boost of his own magical strength to it. His shoulder ached in response. Then he sent the ear down the stairs to the laboratory door for his own reconnaissance, so sensitive it even picked up some mice below the floorboards. He just hoped he didn't earn an earful of something he most certainly _didn't_ want to hear.

"…certain, Severus?" It was Remus and the man sounded very worried.

"Of course I am, Remus. I wouldn't have brought it up to you if I wasn't certain. I have one more idea, but it is a far stretch and I don't have much hope in it. But I do know this will kill the Dark Lord and with his death, the war will end."

Harry gulped in a breath of air. The end of Voldemort! This war would be over?

"We should find another way," Remus said. Why was Remus trying to talk Snape out of using a sure fire way to kill Voldemort?

"We do not have the time. His forces are already in place. They will move as Beltane dies. We only have a week. I can't come up with something new in a week." Snape sounded tired, so very tired, and it was perhaps that that scared Harry the most.

"But… what about the Exchange Ritual. We could…"

"No!" Snape interrupted. "I will not take another master!" The air was silent after his outburst; and then he continued in a more subdued tone, "And anyway, Dumbledore is dead. No other wizard has that kind of power."

"But Severus…" Remus pleaded.

"No, Remus," Snape said softly. Tenderly. "Tonight is our night. Let's enjoy it. Please." Had he ever heard Snape say "please" before? And when Harry heard soft sounds come through the Extendable Ear, soft kisses and moans and sighs, he pulled the ear away.

Exchange Ritual? And what was up with this method they'd found to kill Voldemort? Was it the potion they were working on? There was so much he didn't know, but he would certainly find out.

* * *

The next morning found Harry sitting in the kitchen, drinking his seventh cup of tea. The sun had just peeked above the horizon, but he didn't notice. He'd been up all night, sitting in the kitchen, running through scenario after scenario of what possibly could be going on. The fire had long died and goosebumps had risen over his arms, except for his shoulder that was, as usual, warm to the touch where the scar had been branded into it. He finally decided that he would just ask Remus. They couldn't keep these things from him. Not now. He found he was wavering from righteously pissed to overwhelmingly anxious. 

So, he remained in the kitchen, drinking tea after weak cup of tea until Remus finally arrived.

"Good morning," Remus said. He smiled at Harry, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. He looked tired and somehow dampened.

"Remus. What is this potion about? Can it really kill Voldemort off? And why wouldn't we use it?" He knew that his questions would lead Remus to know he had been eavesdropping, but he didn't much care.

Looking completely dumbstruck, Remus stared at Harry. "How did you…" and then a bright wash of pink flashed over his face. "What did you hear?"

"Oh Remus. I could really care less if you and Snape shagged all last night like nifflers. In fact, good for you. At least one of us got some action. That's not why we're having this little talk. I heard you talking about a potion and that it could kill Voldemort. And something about an Exchange Ritual. What is that about? Would you please just drop the secrets and tell me?!" Harry stood abruptly, slamming his hand down hard onto the surface of the table. The teacup clattered as the table rattled under the abuse.

For a moment, Harry was sure Remus was going to bolt, to turn away and run from the room so he wouldn't have to face Harry's questions. However, the man appeared to have second thoughts and slowly pulled a chair out and sat down in it.

He continued to sit as minutes passed and finally Harry offered him tea. Remus nodded dumbly. When the tea was ready, Harry set it down in front of Remus, who took a sip, set the teacup back down and finally cleared his throat.

"Severus and I had been working on a potion that affixes onto Voldemort's soul and pulls it all into one place, with the added benefit of destroying it in the process, skipping this whole treasure hunt for his Horcruxes. With Dumbledore gone, we just don't know where they all are. We don't have any more time to waste." Remus stopped speaking and took another drink, a longer one this time, and sighed as he returned the cup to the tabletop. He ran his finger over the smooth lip of the cup a few times before continuing. "Severus had been taking Voldemort's blood under the guise of creating other potions for him. Voldemort trusts him implicitly since Dumbledore's death and Severus has had to do some terrible things to keep that trust."

Remus looked deeply into the murky liquid in his cup. "Anyway," he shook his head as if trying to deny certain memories, "we're sure we found a way to kill him with this potion. It connects to each portion of Voldemort out there… not just his soul, but his essence, and completely obliterates it. Gone. Voldemort, Horcruxes and…anyone with the Dark Mark."

Harry inhaled sharply. "Do you mean… that… Snape. Draco…?"

"Yes, Harry. To kill Voldemort, Severus and Draco will die, too. Through the Dark Mark, a portion of Voldemort's essence is within them and the potion will seek that out as well, destroying them as it destroys Voldemort."

Holy, fucking hell. Was there anything that Voldemort wouldn't take from him?

"But! There has to be some other way… A modification to the potion so it only seeks out…"

"No, Harry," Remus interrupted, his voice firm and resigned. "Voldemort is going to make his move on the night of Beltane. That gives us little time to modify the potion and it must be delivered to Voldemort before that. There is just no time." His voice trailed off to a sad whisper of hopeless acceptance.

"What about that ritual you talked about?" Harry asked, now feeling frantic.

"Severus would never go through with it… and well, there isn't anyone who could perform it."

"What is it, Remus? Just tell me!" Remus' eyes examined Harry's face intently, but Harry withstood the scrutiny, hoping to show that Remus could tell Harry these things, that he could understand and he could deal with it. He wasn't a child anymore.

"It would exchange the power behind the Dark Mark from Voldemort to another wizard. But that wizard would need to be equivalently powerful to the original caster. Without Dumbledore around, I don't think there is another wizard around who could compare to Voldemort. Anyway, there is no way Severus would go along with it. He only wants to be free."

Harry stared at Remus, who looked blankly into his tea cup, slowly turning the cup in the saucer clockwise making a little scraping sound. He wished there was something he could do. Wasn't he supposed to play a part in this? Wasn't he supposed to be the end to Tom Riddle? _A power the Dark Lord knows not_.

Oh.

"Remus, are you sure it's power equivalency… maybe some other form of power that is stronger or different than what Voldemort has?" Dumbledore had told Harry that he had something that Voldemort didn't. Maybe, just maybe, he could do this for them. He could save Snape and Draco. He would do _anything_ to save Draco.

Remus only shook his head. "I don't know, Harry. It's an old ritual and hasn't been performed in the last 300 years. There isn't much written down about it. Why do you ask?" he asked curiously.

Suddenly feeling shy, Harry stared down towards the floor. "Well… I was wondering if I could do it."

Remus nodded as Harry spoke. "Harry, I'd thought of that… but we couldn't be sure. It could put you in danger as well. This isn't some trial and error type of spell. But maybe…"

"No," came the stiff denial. "No way. I will not bind myself to this imbecile." Harry looked over at Snape, who had just entered the kitchen, with a little shock. Snape hadn't been that vicious to him in a long while.

"But…"

"I said no. I am certain you couldn't do it anyway. Now would you two gentlemen stop trying to discuss our fates behind our backs? It is our choice, nothing you can do or say will change that. Draco and I will be leaving today. We have to make our move soon and deliver the potion…"

"But Severus, we are trying to give you choices. This could work!"

"Listen to me, Remus!" Snape yelled. "It won't work. Please desist!" His yell echoed through the large room--and then silence. Snape dropped his head in a defeated motion, his hair dangling forward to hide his face. Then he started speaking quietly again. "Draco and I will be leaving today, but we will return on Beltane Eve. To say our goodbyes." His head lifted slowly and he looked sadly at Remus. A look so raw and open Harry almost released a sob.

He pushed passed Remus and then Snape, and ran to find Draco.

He sprinted down halls and up stairways, looking into every room he came to. He found the young man in the library, looking out the stained glass window into the quiet morning, his eyes dull.

"Draco?" Harry said softly.

The light of the dawning sun filtered through the reds and yellows of the window and painted Draco in an eerie wash, giving him a holy appearance; he looked touched by divinity.

"Draco," Harry said a little more loudly. He crossed the room and stood next to the other man. Cautiously, he lifted his hand as if to reach out and touch his shoulder, offer his support, let him know that he cared… that was worried.

Suddenly, Draco turned from the window, causing Harry to drop his hand limply to his side. A macabre mask of indifference and disdain replaced that blank, lost look and Harry wasn't sure which one was more frightening.

"What is it, Potter? Come here to rejoice in the death of your enemies? Not only do you get to rid yourself of that pesky Dark Lord, you also will eradicate many scions of noble, ancient wizarding families, not to mention a whole pack of Slytherins. You get to rid yourself of Severus… and me. Come on, Potter. Tell me how happy you will be. Cheer! Laugh! Come on, Potter!" Draco's words crescendoed into a screaming pitch as he bombarded Harry with his sharp words. "Come on! Fucking tell me this will just make your day. How the world will be a better place with all of us dead. Destroyed by our fucked up choices. Destroyed by fate… by our fucking twisted parents." Draco's scream abruptly turned into sobs full of sorrow; Harry reached out once more and tentatively touched Draco's bicep. "You should cheer, Potter," Draco said, this time quietly, tears trailing down his face as he stared unwaveringly into Harry's eyes. "We'll all be gone soon."

Harry gripped Draco's arm and gently tugged the other man towards him, holding him tight as Draco's sorrows drained out.

"I don't want to die, Harry. I don't want to die."

The sun rose in the sky and painted the men in golds and reds.

* * *

They had gone. The serpents had left the den of the lions and the lions pined for their loss. 

"Remus, I can't accept this. This is bullshite, you know that, right? I'm going to Hogwarts. Do some research. Do _something_. There has to be more to this ritual you talked about. A book, or a scroll or some moldy ancient text has to have some new information. We _must_ save them. We have to!" Harry cried out his anguish, screamed out the pain threatening to implode his heart.

"Okay Harry. Go," Remus said. "I hope you do find something that will save them. Might I make a suggestion?" Remus asked. Harry nodded, his eyes red from his sleepless night. "Take Hermione with you."

Harry smiled weakly at that. "Good idea. I'll firecall if I find out anything, okay."

After drafting Hermione into his quest, Harry left for Hogwarts. He scowled at the beautiful late April day, angry that it wasn't dreary and raining. How could such a pleasant day surface when his Draco was going to die?

As Harry and Hermione walked up the road to Hogwarts, Harry mulled over what he knew of the Exchange Ritual. If a wizard was powerful enough, he could trick the current bonding spell into thinking he was the new master. Remus had told him that the ritual was very ancient, and like most old spells, there wasn't a lot of information written down about it. But he and Snape had discovered the spell in their mad search to find some way out of their current trap, so there had to be something available.

Hermione looked over at Harry. She'd been shooting him furtive glances the entire walk, but had kept her tongue until they almost reached the winged boars.

"Harry, do you dream of him?"

"What?" Harry asked, startled. What did that have to do with anything?

"Draco. Do you dream of Draco?" she asked.

They stopped in the middle of the lane and Harry turned towards her. A bird chirped overhead as it fly by and Harry wondered how he could put what he felt into words. "Hermione," he began, "every night." His face erupted into a thousand shades of pink. "I can't help but think of him." He stopped to swallow. "And I'm not talking about sex… though sometimes…" The blush deepened and they stood together for a while in silence. Harry felt so much, it churned inside of him to be released. "I can't help but think of him. He's in my dreams, Hermione, and my hopes, wishes… desires." It was odd, but as he continued to speak, his embarrassment at telling Hermione all of this seemed to disappear. He actually felt relief.

"It's as if you search for something your whole life and then you find it; you recognize that you're one of the lucky ones. And then it's gone, taken away, and you're so lonely and lost, more broken than you were before it was taken away, because before you found it, you never knew you weren't whole."

"Harry. I think you can do this. If you dream of Draco… if you love him, then I know that you can do this. You have the power. I don't care what Snape or Remus say. You do have the power. But you must understand that _you _will be their_ master_. They will be yours to command." Hermione watched Harry as what she said sunk in.

Harry felt his heart pound and an odd queasiness settle in his belly. Command Draco? Or Snape for that matter… He didn't want to command anyone. He just wanted to save them. To free them. He hadn't really thought about what Snape had said the night they left until now.

"Harry?" Hermione probed. Harry jerked, his mind had traveled elsewhere, and he'd forgotten where he was, that Hermione stood next to him outside of the wizarding school.

"Yes?" he asked.

"I just want you to remember that if this works, and you do become their new master, well I just want you to remember your dreams and the way he makes you feel. Remember that love and you won't be brutal." She stopped speaking and smiled up at him. Reaching out, she caressed his cheek, warming his cool skin. "It isn't in you to be brutal."

He wouldn't be brutal, he knew that. He couldn't be. But what if this power corrupted him and twisted him and made him something Dark? He hadn't thought of that. He hadn't thought of that at all.

* * *

His time was running out and Harry was beginning to lose it. Hermione had been trying to calm him down for the last twelve hours, but his frantic anxiety finally forced her to drug him without his consent. He wasn't sure if he would ever trust drinking anything Hermione gave him again. 

When he woke he felt refreshed--that was until the worry forced itself to the forefront of his mind and overdosed his system with adrenaline and angst.

"Hermione, how could you?" he said, leaping from his cot that was crammed in the small room. They'd found the room near the library and had commandeered it when they arrived six days ago. It even had a tiny fireplace connected to the Floo Network. He was sure it hadn't been there when he'd attended school. Every surface space, excluding the beds, was covered in notes and books and cauldrons with half-tested potions brewed in a speed-enhancing medium. They had been searching every avenue on how to make this ritual work but nothing pulled it all together. Nothing _yet_. They still had over a day. One full, solid, complete set of 24 hours to finish before Voldemort's soul would die, taking every Death Eater with it.

"Harry, you weren't thinking clearly. Here, look at this. I found reference to a form of exchange ritual and I've reworked some of it to fit what we want to do with the Dark Marks. Look it over, I'm taking a nap." Hermione handed Harry a long scroll, all unwound and creased in regular intervals, scattered with meters of notes and formulae in Hermione's frantic yet neat writing. She wobbled over to her cot and seemed asleep before she'd fully landed on it with a 'thud'.

Harry stared at her in awe. She'd really pulled through during their research and redesign of the ritual. He could never have done it without her. As Hermione softly snored in deep slumber, Harry reviewed all of her notes and rewrote the entire ritual down on another scroll, incorporating her notes in the process.

Logically, it _seemed_ like it would work; it was all cleanly mapped out on parchment. However, it wouldn't succeed. There was a gap, a break in the logic that both he and Hermione had caught, yet couldn't bridge.

Shite. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't do this, but he _had_ to do this. So much was resting on him solving this one problem.

He rubbed at his lion head scar absently, feeling the rough, hard skin, catching it on the jagged edge of his fingernail.

So, what was it missing? First they had to focus and center on Voldemort's signature in the Mark. Okay, they had that portion of the ritual defined. They knew the proper sigils and incantations. Next, they would need to force the signature out, bully it so it could be switched. A salve was what Harry and Hermione had decided to use and they even had a batch of it brewing. That step was complete as well. Then--Hermione insisted on this step--they had to have a place for the signature to withdraw. Harry didn't think this was a necessary part of the ritual, but Hermione seemed so adamant about it, they worked out the kinks on that part, too. They found a _grisgris_ pot from the overflowing piles of junk in the Room of Requirement where Harry had hid the Half-Blood Prince's Potions text. It was used to manipulate souls, but with a few modifications it would now capture those soul fragments. The hardest part lay next. They had to trick the Mark into accepting Harry's signature instead of Voldemort's. This was that bridge they were looking for. A way for Harry to connect with them and send his own magic over.

If only they knew how the original Dark Mark was created.

Fuck it. He had to convince Snape to tell them. There wasn't any other way.

He went to the fireplace and called for Remus. "Remus, did Severus leave any notes behind? Something that might explain this exchange ritual; anything that might talk about the Dark Mark and the magics behind its creation?" Harry asked quietly in an unending stream of words.

"Hello, Harry," Remus said excitedly. "How has your research gone? What have you two found?"

"Well, we've gotten most of it figured out, but not totally. I'm having problems with one part of it: tricking the current Mark into accepting my signature rather than the original one it was made from. Everything else is all ready to go."

Remus' hopes looked a little dashed. "Well, Severus did have some notes. You should come over as soon as possible to review them. Time is running out."

"I know, Remus!" Harry exclaimed. "I know and I'm trying to do what I can. I'll come through in a minute; I gotta collect everything." He left the Floo and started to collect the salve, the _grisgris_ pot and everything else he would need for the ritual. He scribbled a quick note out for Hermione, and left with the rewritten ritual tightly gripped in one hand.

* * *

One thing Harry had to give to Snape was that he was well-organized. Snape had three neatly filed piles of scrolls and reams of parchment. One of the piles hosted Snape's notes on his potions, his life's work, his memoirs. The other two piles were warded and encrypted. Harry moved them to the library, Draco's old haunt, to gain a little focus. 

Remus offered to help and together they'd worked on one pile to break down the spells protecting it. The clock's ticking added its own percussion to the scratching of quills and muffled irritation. The pile contained the research and final procedure for the potion that would kill Voldemort. Harry ground his teeth at their lost time. They tossed those pages aside and tackled the next set and after another few hours broke the other pile's protection spells. To Harry's relief, those scrolls covered the Dark Mark and the same Exchange Ritual Harry and Hermione had re-created from scratch.

He sighed. It seemed like some Dark force was working against them.

"Thanks, Remus. I'll take it from here." Remus insisted that he should stay and help, but Harry convinced him that since he'd spent the last week researching, learning and redesigning this spell, that it would be best if he reviewed Snape's notes himself. Finally, Remus left after offering to make dinner. In a way, Harry felt bad. This research gave him something to do. Remus could only wait for the executioner's ax to drop.

The pile of information was quite extensive and Harry wasn't sure where to start. He decided to start from the beginning.

Four hours later, Remus came in with some sandwiches and hot chocolate. Harry scarfed the food down and returned to his project, madly scribbling notes, scratching out one theory and reworking another. He was on the right track, he just knew it.

But then, time had run out.

* * *

He'd watched over the boy for years. From his first toddle to his first spell, Severus had watched Draco. Today was no different. He watched as Draco gazed out the window into the surrounding forest of their confines within the Death Eater compound. He watched as Draco gazed. They had nothing else to do as time ticked by. Nothing but wait with their thoughts and regrets. 

The potion had been delivered, under the guise of a magically-enhancing tincture to make the Dark Lord even more powerful. Severus knew how to play to the man's weaknesses and desires. Now, all they had to do was wait. Wait for the potion to subtly work its way into the Dark Lord's system and cut off his magic from that intimately corrupted soul, slowly causing that soul to disintegrate. To be no more. All they had to do was wait until that potion destroyed the shards of the Dark Lord, those residing within the Horcruxes, those residing within them, taking them along for the ride. All they could do was wait for their final breaths to exhaust away.

He watched as the boy gazed.

And they waited.

"Do you think I was stupid?" Draco asked, startling Severus from his silent observations.

"Please indicate _which_ incident you are speaking of in which you might have been stupid. Unfortunately, there are many to choose from."

Draco turned from the window and offered Severus a small smile. Severus knew that Draco understood his chiding, his stiff way of offering something familiar and comforting. They had precious little else.

"Do you think I should have… let him win?" Draco asked after he'd dropped his gaze to the floor.

"And of which whom are we speaking?" Severus knew exactly where this conversation was leading to, and in a way it pleased him. He'd been watching Draco for so long; it was amazing to see the young man finally admit he might have been wrong. That perhaps things weren't black and white and designed along the lines of his father's thinking.

Draco turned back to face the window. "Harry. Should I have let Harry win?" Draco asked, his voice small.

"What would he be winning?" Severus asked as he walked across the room to stand beside Draco. The night was clear and the stars sparkled without the dilution of light from a city.

"The fight, the contest, the argument. We've been rivals for so long… and then he started following me around like a damned puppy. Like a lackey. What a put off. I missed the fight. I didn't want a fan club… well, not in a lover. I wanted someone… " Draco's words faded into the quiet night.

"To challenge you?" Severus asked.

"Yes. I wanted a challenge. And well, once he was so obviously won over by my good looks and amazing charm… well, he wasn't as exciting. But part of me wonders… I mean…" Draco stumbled over his words and Severus stood by quietly, letting this young man that he loved like a son find his own heart.

"And now," Draco looked up into Severus' eyes; he could see them pooling and glowing with tears unshed. "Now it's too fucking late for anything. It's too fucking late to find out if… well, maybe this new Harry might not have been too dull after all. Might have still been a fun challenge. But I turned my back on him because I was too fucking good. Too fucking good for everyone and everything and now it's too late. It's all over. We're going to fucking _DIE_ and there _ISN'T ANYTHING WE CAN DO_ and it's all over!"

Draco crumbled to the floor, his face plastered into his palms as he sniffed, his shoulders slightly shaking. Severus squatted next to him and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Draco. Remember this: life is full of regrets, life is full of promises, life is full of pain, but there is also joy. In the end, all you ever have are those moments, those memories. All we have is ourselves to answer to. Sometimes we lose sight of that; I know I have. We are running out of time, yes, but we haven't _run_ out of time. What would you do with your last few hours? How would you spend these moments which are only yours? How will we spend this time?"

Draco sniffed, gripping Severus as tightly as he gripped the young man. "I would let him win. I would go back and be with him and let him win and see a glimpse of what I might have had." He pulled back slightly and lifted his head to meet Severus' eyes. "Can we return? Can we go back?"

"I think so, Draco. I think we will do just that."

* * *

They walked through the door of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place together at seven p.m. on April 30th. From what Severus had told Draco, they had approximately twenty-four hours to live, with a half hour margin of error. They knew that Voldemort had his major coup planned for eleven p.m. on May 1st and the wizard had to die before his machinations were set in motion. This had to end for good, right here. 

Loud footsteps echoed through the old manor house as Remus walked briskly to the entrance. A deep furrow in his forehead and damp eyes gave away the man's true feelings, though he still had a smile plastered on his face. Remus always smiled.

"Severus," he said happily and engulfed Severus into a hug. Draco watched as Severus returned the hug, pulled Remus tight into his chest, held onto him like a lifeline.

Severus lifted Remus' face and the two men lost themselves in the other's eyes. Draco watched as they leaned towards each other and their lips met. He wanted that. He wanted someone to be there for him, someone to share his last hours with.

He turned from them and went looking for Harry. He wasn't surprised to find him in the library.

Curled in a tight, little ball, Harry slept on the settee, his hair mussed in a frenzied crown. The last light of the day streamed through the painted windows. Piles and piles of scrolls were laid about and one long, unfurled scroll was spread out next to the settee Harry lay on.

Draco stood in the entrance absorbing the sight before him. This last day of his he would chisel into his synapses and neurons and take with him to the afterlife, whatever that might be. He had to admit, Harry was beautiful. Not in any sort of contemporary way. He would never be a model or turn many heads, but there was a sense of majesty about him. Of truth and hope and honor. That was Harry. The proverbial Gryffindor. The Hero of the Wizarding World.

Draco stepped into the room, careful not to tread on any of Harry's notes or books, and crouched next to the sleeping man. He was beautiful because of his devotion and because of his love.

"Harry?" Draco asked, his voice velvety and ethereal. Harry grunted a little and stirred, but did not waken. Draco lifted a finger and began tracing his curse scar, slowly mapping the lightning shape.

Slowly, those vivid green eyes opened and they grew wide as they saw the owner of the caress.

"Draco," Harry said in soft wonder. He straightened his body and pushed himself up into a sitting position. "You're here!" He lifted his arms as if to embrace Draco, but he caught himself and offered a shy smile instead. "I'm happy you came. I was hoping you would."

"Harry," Draco said and Harry smiled at hearing his name. "We haven't got much time…" Draco's words were stalled by a finger over his lips.

"Draco, let's not think about that, okay."

"Looks like you've been trying to figure something out," Draco said, eyeing the piles of parchments.

"Yeah," he said somberly. "I thought I could do that Exchange Ritual, but I'm missing something. I just can't figure it out. I'm so sorry. I've failed you… I tried. I tried." Harry lunged himself into Draco's arms and cried out into the dying day. "I'm… so… sorry," he sobbed. Draco clung to Harry, trying to hang on to life and potential and a vague concept called 'future.' All soon to blow away like dust.

In a reflection of Severus and Remus, Draco lifted up Harry's face and gently kissed him. An intake of air from Harry gave away his shock, but he quickly kissed back, murmuring "Draco, oh Draco," over and over, composing the lyrics of the moment into an eternal melody. Their mouths trailed over each other's faces, dancing across lips and cheeks, noses and eyelids. Mapping, tracing, claiming if only for this one night.

Though Draco would never admit it, he'd often imagined kissing Harry and what that experience would be. He hadn't imagined anything this tender, this full of love. He'd imagined passion and desperation; he'd imagined clumsy fumblings as well as talented, well-earned skills. But he'd never imagined this moment as Harry's strong arms held him tight, like he was some cherished prize that the other wizard wanted to keep safe. It was heaven and hell and something Draco had never hoped to experience before. It was the stuff of dreams and he never imagined he'd dream of lions.

"Harry," Draco murmured. "Harry, I'm so sorry," kiss, "I waited," kiss, "and was so standoffish." The final kiss was lingering and his lips parted to entice Harry's tongue to join his own. Eagerly, Harry opened for him and the kiss deepened; all thoughts of words and apologies evaporated as their passion climbed.

"I want…" Harry said incoherently, moaning as Draco trailed kisses down and up his neck, sucking in one earlobe and teasing it with his teeth. "I want…" he tried again, but gave up speech to show Draco what he wanted and began lifting Draco's shirt. Draco stood back and raised his arms, and soon the garment puddled to the floor. He watched in anticipation as Harry's eyes crawled all over his body with a feral, needy look. It sent a shiver of desire straight through his body, all of his blood rushing south.

"Yes, Harry… you want…?" Draco panted as the air surrounding him suddenly lacked oxygen under that hungry gaze. Harry leaned forward and kissed him again, this time everything but gentle, hands rubbing his chest, fingers exploring and finally tweaking a nipple, just once, and Draco pulled back, gasping.

"God. Harry. My God." Words rushed from his lips as he felt the world tilt, shift. How could he have not wanted this? How could he have wasted so much time?

With clumsy fingers, Draco pulled off Harry's shirt and ran his tongue from his collarbone to his left nipple and sucked hard. The gasp he heard was his sweet reward and he continued to suck and bite at the nub, rolling it around on his tongue. So sweet. Harry was so sweet, he could melt right there in Draco's hands and mouth and totally cease to exist.

And as Harry melted away, Draco felt himself melt and reform and become something new. He realized what it was he'd wanted so badly for so long. This feeling, this sense of belonging…becoming…he had found it in Harry.

Draco gasped, breaking the kiss. Harry looked up at him, lips swollen and sweat glistening on his skin with his eyes wide and wondering. Beautiful. Why hadn't he seen it before? This beautiful, powerful man was his. His.

He reached for the button on Harry's jeans and undid it, slowly pulling the zipper down, tooth by tooth, and he could feel Harry's erection through the thin fabric of his pants. His own erection pulsed in response, eager and anticipatory. Suddenly, Harry leaned in for another kiss, brutal and demanding things from Draco that he willingly gave as his heart beat _Iwantyou_ and _Ineedyou_ and _don'tletmedie. Remembermealways_. And then Draco felt Harry everywhere, on his skin, in his mind, touching his magic and the two fell to the settee, dizzy and blind and _wanting_ as their clothing flew off in a frenzy of pawing, as if a tornado tore each article away. It was heady and the two men surrendered to their passion and welcomed the oblivion it brought.

* * *

With slow awareness, Harry opened his eyes to the dark room, only highlighted by the light of the May moon. It was May now. He knew it was. 

He shifted slightly on the floor, aware of pleasant soreness that brought about even more pleasant memories. How he and Draco had been together… actually merging, connecting in some basic way. Harry'd never experienced anything like that and wondered if sex was always like that with magical people or if he and Draco had something special.

He grinned at the darkness. He and Draco… he'd never imagined it would be anything like _that_.

Then suddenly Harry shot straight up, disturbing the sleeping man next to him. Time was almost up.

"What is it?" Draco asked, alarmed. Then he too winced at his own sore body. "Oh, sticky. We should have cast Cleaning Charms," he said with a chuckle. Even with their looming deadline, Harry found himself delighted at that chuckle, devoid of judgment or deprecation. Then he felt the tingle of magic dance over his skin as Draco cleaned them up with a swish of his wand. Oddly the magic grew, expanded almost, and Harry felt a twinge in his arm in response to that magic. Right in that scar that looked so much like a roaring lion.

_Oh my God_, Harry thought. That magic. That connection. He'd felt it last night when they were together, when Draco was in his arms and they'd _connected_. That was it!

"Merlin!" he said in breathy awe, then more forcefully, "Get up, we need to talk to Remus and Snape. Now!" Harry said, jumping to his feet and scrambling around for his clothing.

"What? What is it?" Draco demanded, standing there showing no indication that he was going to dress or move. His pale, naked body caught Harry's attention and he dropped his own armful of clothing in favor of an armful of Draco.

This kiss was full of joy and he felt Draco respond to his contagious euphoria. With a laugh, Draco pulled away and asked again, "Harry, what is it?"

"I think I've figured it out. I know how to finish the spell! You won't die!"

* * *

Harry and Draco ran into Remus' room without any warning or preamble. "Remus! Snape! I've got it!" The two men ripped themselves apart and scrambled to pull up the sheets to shield their naked bodies. 

"Potter, what the hell…" Snape began. Remus turned seven shades of red.

"I've had an epiphany!" Harry said. "When Draco and I…" Harry stopped speaking and glanced from Draco to Snape to Remus, and then shrugged. "I can do this. We can do this. The Exchange Ritual. All you guys have to do is agree to it. When Voldemort goes, you don't have to die!"

"Mr. Potter, as someone even with your visual frailties can see, Remus and I are rather busy. Kindly remove yourselves from this room and we can discuss your… _epiphany_ at a more opportune time."

Harry stared at Snape and then Remus. Remus offered a weak smile, but nodded in agreement. "Oh. Okay," Harry said. He glanced at Draco with a smirk and they left the room.

* * *

"Potter, do calm down and explain yourself," Severus said. He would not jump for joy. He would not whoop his relief. He would not show his excitement in any way. But when Remus gripped at his arm, he couldn't help but glance over to his lover and offer a hopeful sparkle of his eye. That would have to do. 

In Remus' arms he'd certainly had second thoughts about this whole dying thing.

Harry paced the length of the kitchen, his hands gripped behind his back, head bent low as he explained his sudden outburst. "Hermione and I had worked out the entire Ritual, even creating the proper salve and found a _grisgris_ pot to use as well. The only thing we had missing was a way to have my magic actually enter into you and trick the Mark into accepting it instead of Voldemort's. But when Draco and I… well… My scar, the new one, it is somehow affected by magic. I realized that I can _feel_ magic better… no, that's not right. I can understand its desires…?" It came out a question and this did not assure Severus.

"Explain," he demanded.

"Well… I can sense what the magic wants, its purpose. It's like I don't just feel the spell, but the pure substance of the _magic_. When Draco cast a spell on me, my scar tingled and I felt the magic clean, but I could also sense some deeper nature to it. And then I _touched_ it." The young man still sounded unsure.

"Harry, are you unsure of what happened, or are you just having problems putting it to words?" Remus intervened.

Harry nodded. "I know I can convince the Dark Marks to take my signature instead. Can't you trust me? And it's not like if it fails you have anything to lose." Snape watched as Harry turned to Draco and grabbed his hands in supplication. "Please, let me try. I don't want you to die."

He watched as Draco dissolved under those pleas. His young charge turned to look at him, his own beseeching look asking Severus for permission. For hope.

"Severus, before you completely dismiss Harry's proposal. I want you think about it," Remus said with sure force, turning Severus towards him and gripping his shoulders firmly. "You know that Harry would not abuse the power. He would not treat you as a subservient in any way. He wouldn't force you, ever. Take this chance. I know you don't want a new master, but please… take this chance… for us. I'm tired enough of worry and fear and feeling so God damned helpless. I don't want to lose you. I want to live with you and listen to your bristling Snapeish ways in the morning and spend long nights in your bed. I want to grow old and die with you. Don't give up this chance. Do not pass this by."

How could Remus do this to him? The only card he hadn't pulled were those worthless three words so many romantic couples tossed around. Remus wanted to grow old with him? When did this happen? Nobody wanted to grow old with Severus; he was as bristly as they came. And did he want some mangy wolf hanging around all those years?

Severus looked up into Remus' eyes, displaying trust and hope, and though it was there, Severus refused to name the one fundamental emotion, the devotion that he saw in them.

"Severus," Draco said with a quiet voice, quiet yet lined with steel. "I'm going to do it. I'm going to try. I don't want to die. And… and I trust Harry. There is no way he would abuse this. He's too much the Gryffindor," he finished with a smirk.

Harry beamed at him. The two young men turned towards Severus and Remus and waited.

Remus let lose Severus' shoulders and then gripped hand tight. "It is your choice. Make up your mind quickly, Severus. Because if you choose not to go through with the Exchange Ritual, I want to drag you back to our room and have my way with you before time runs out." Remus waggled his eyebrows at him in a completely lecherous way and Severus snorted in amusement. He could still see the melancholy in the other man's features, but knew Remus was struggling to make this easier for Severus. He was letting him choose. Years with this man, with this witty, smart, sexy man.

"Fine. I will do it. But know this, Potter, you will _not_ rule me." Harry shook his head quickly in assurance, his eyes wide with innocence. Severus trusted that Harry thought he would never try to rule Draco or him, but he didn't hold much faith as he grew older and wiser and perhaps a little more jaded with the world. But he would try. Severus was a survivor above all else.

"Let's get going then," Harry said excitedly, "we don't have much time. Down in the basement, I think. I'll start preparing the runes and casting circle. You two need to do some sort of ritual cleansing, something symbolic to your upcoming change in allegiance." Harry grinned bright and scampered out the door.

Severus looked over at Draco, who wore a mixed look of worry and relief. "Change in our allegiance? Do we have to wave our 'Support Potter' flag now?" Draco drawled, amused.

"I just hope the Dark Mark doesn't change into something revolting, like Gryffindor red," Snape said. "Now shoo, Draco. Go bathe." Draco turned and skipped out of the kitchen, obviously excited at the prospect of meeting his mid twenties.

With the boys gone, Remus leaned close and kissed Severus. It was long and hard and filled with tempting promise. Finally, when they pulled away, Remus licked his lips and smirked. "More of that for later, now go clean yourself up. I don't want this to be screwed up because we got distracted." Severus smiled at Remus, his anxiety slipping away.

* * *

The four men stood clustered in the stone-lined basement of Grimmauld Place; Severus and Draco in long, muslin robes, Severus with a curiously blank look on his face while Draco sported one of excitement and anticipation. Remus was rubbing salve all over the pair of Dark Marks tattooed to their souls, slathering on the thick, waxy substance as liberally as gravity allowed. Harry stood in the center of an ash-lined circle, decorated with runes and other symbols that designated his intention, protected the participants and contained the magic within. In his hands he held a small, clay pot. 

His eyes were closed as he charged the little _grisgris_ pot with his energy, causing it to act as a soul collector for the parts of Voldemort he would push out of the two Slytherins.

Everything was ready, though he was admittedly very nervous. Sweat trickled down his spine as the heat in the basement seemed abnormally high. That must be it… it was terribly hot down there in the cradle of earth and stone.

He would not mess this up. Lives were at stake. Draco was at stake.

"Harry, are you ready?" Remus asked, wiping his hands off on a damp rag.

Harry looked up at Remus and his friend nodded at him, offering his support. Harry nodded back and placed the pot down on the ground in the center of the circle. Remus stepped over the edge of the circle, and with one final glance behind him, he left the basement entirely.

Harry took a deep breath and concentrated his magic. It stemmed from within him, a burning orb of energy at the center of his being. The power matured, pulsating, growing beyond his physical dimensions to fill the circle, touching the two other men—who gasped at the border of Harry's hearing—and then beyond, to the edges of the room.

Part of Harry, that part not completely present in the ritual, noticed the look of awe in the eyes of the two men standing on the edge of the circle. The other part, that part glorifying in dominance and power and lust, was extremely pleased at that look in those eyes. That part reveled and laughed to be free.

* * *

"Come to me," Harry said, his voice reverberating throughout the room, bouncing back and filling his senses with the force that was Harry. 

What the fuck? Something in Draco broke. It wasn't his will or his sense of self; it was more like his desire to refuse. He wanted to go to Harry, to this marvelously powerful man.

The two men stepped towards him and each dropped down to one knee in supplication. Yes, this was right. This was the way things should be. Draco could feel the power lift and rise in Harry, his dark hair flailing about him in a hurricane of magic, his eyes glowing green with fire and presence.

My God. The Dark Lord had nothing on him.

Draco's cock immediately grew hard.

Harry lifted one hand, not even using his wand, and touched each man's forehead, right over the third eye. Draco could feel something being planted within him, a cocoon of power and dominance infiltrating his skin and sliding down through his nerves, spreading in to every inch of himself.

The feeling was odd, tingly, yes, but also warm and relaxing. It charged him even as it consumed him. It was so pacifying that he was totally unprepared for the complete agony that hit him when that warm tingle hit his Dark Mark.

At once the two supplicants fell to the ground, writhing in pain as Harry's signature fought and tried to expel that of Voldemort's. A harsh cackle filled the air and then abruptly ended, leaving the cries of Draco and Severus to fill the room.

"Gaaaahhhh!" Harry's scream ripped apart the fabric of Draco's awareness and he could feel Harry's presence within him change. The pain was still there, perhaps even stronger, more debilitating than it was before, but some significant essence of the magic Harry had inserted into him had shifted. It no longer demanded; it no longer needled its way into every corner of his being. It pulled back and focused on his Dark Mark and then the pain intensified as his skin felt scorched, like it was boiling and sloughing off of his bones. _What is this pain? Just kill me. Fucking Merlin be damned! Kill me!_

Draco felt ripped apart and slammed together in a wash of blood and pain and power. His pulse pounded in his heart like the roar of a wild beast, a lion. All around him was the roar of a lion.

He'd never realized how terrifyingly powerful Harry was; he could remake the sun with a touch of his will and here all he had claimed Master to was two wayward wizards.

Finally, his screams ended, not because the pain was gone, but because his throat was shredded flesh, and after time, even tremendous pain could lose its sting. And then he lost himself and gave up, giving himself in totality to that unrelenting force and blackness relieved him of all agony and worry.

* * *

Could he still be alive? Severus shifted where he lay, his body groaning in agony, but still alive. Slowly, he shifted his weight and rolled over to his back, flinching as pressure hit his Mark. It felt tender, but wasn't awash in pain like it had been before. 

How long had he laid here? He'd been out for a while; he could tell by the stiffness in his muscles. The room was black and the only thing he could hear was a far away pounding, rhythmic, but not steady. What was that? He concentrated on the sound, and as he did so, he could hear something else: the faint calls of Remus.

"Open up!" Remus yelled, though the voice sounded far away. He could tell Remus was yelling by the tone and urgency, not by the volume. "My God, are you okay? Anyone? Let me in!" The banging and screaming continued, but Severus couldn't move. He was so tired.

He closed his eyes and faded again.

* * *

The door creaked open. A man wailed aloud and footprints echoed off the walls as he ran towards the three prone bodies.

* * *

Draco was warm. And clean. And he smelled lavender and jasmine tea. Mentally, he categorized how he felt. He had feet, legs… and good, there was his cock; his stomach rumbled a bit, so that certainly was still intact. He felt his chest and his heart fluttered… He was pleased to feel it still beating. One arm… One arm…? Hmm… that didn't bode well. 

With effort, he opened his eyes and saw through blurry eyes that he lay in a huge bed in his guest room at Grimmauld Place. He lifted his hand and touched his forehead, which felt slightly clammy and he quickly drew his hand back. The skin had been soft and malleable, as if the bone had decided it had better places to be.

What had Harry done?

"Hello?" His voice was hoarse and his throat rebelled at that one word.

He didn't want to think about that missing arm.

Heavy steps approached the door and it cracked open. Draco turned his head and looked at Remus, who smiled crookedly at him. What did that mean?

"What's happened?" he asked.

Remus stepped into the room and looked down at Draco. "Why don't you rest up first? I'd rather not retell the story three times. But you are alive, so are Severus and Harry. I think it worked; reports are coming in over the wireless that people are dropping left and right and it appears they all have the Dark Mark. Everyone but you and Severus." Remus patted Draco softly on the shoulder that he could feel, and then turned to walk out. "Drink your tea," he said as he left.

Dumbfounded, Draco just stared at the door that Remus had closed. That bloody werewolf told him nothing! Damn him!

He glanced over at his other arm… the _other_ arm that was attached to his body but had no feeling and realized why. It was in a stasis field like Harry's had been after he'd been attacked by that creature. He lifted his good hand and felt where his Dark Mark would be through his clothing. Strange heat emanated from it, pulsing with the beat of his heart. He grabbed the cloth and drew the sleeve up.

It was gone.

The Dark Mark was gone!

He gawked at his pristine flesh for uncountable minutes before Remus returned with a cruel joviality about him. Damned, cheerful man.

"Well, both Severus and Harry are up! They're waiting for you in Harry's room. Ready to go?" he asked.

At the thought of going to Harry, something within Draco twitched. Something straight into the core of his heart. He wanted to see Harry, needed him.

My God. What had they done? He hadn't had these urges with the Dark Lord. He thought about the implications of this even as Remus helped him rise from the bed. Part of him elated at the thought of going to Harry and he noticed with embarrassment, that his cock showed its elation as well.

Due to his lack of strength, Draco let Remus support him as they shuffled down the hallway to Harry's room. He could already hear some soft murmuring through the door and his heart's cadence sped up as Remus opened it.

There he was: his Lord. Draco had an undeniable urge to drop to his knees and worship the man who lay at the center of the bed. He barely registered that Severus also sat on that same bed and that his mentor showed no signs of bowing down and scraping along the floor.

"Oh, Draco, do pull it together," Severus drawled.

"Draco…I'm sorry," Harry said in a soft voice, sitting up straighter on the bed. "I didn't mean…" Draco watched as Harry floundered for words and Severus rolled his eyes. Slowly, he made his way across the room, one shuffle at a time until he too sat on the bed, on the opposite side as Severus, like a pair of Slytherin bookends.

Remus handed him another cup of tea, fragrant and warm and somehow stabilizing.

"What's going on?" Draco finally had the sense to ask after he had a few gulps of tea.

He looked over at Harry, who seemed somehow shy and small, nothing like the god he had appeared to be during the ritual.

"Well," he began. "Let me start from… well, from the point in the ritual when I wanted to totally rule over you. It was so odd… and so fucking amazing. That power." Harry looked up and stared at Draco, then looked over at Severus. "I just wanted you to be mine, both of you, your power, your bodies, your souls. Mine. It was overwhelming." He stopped and stared over at Remus. Then he swallowed and continued. "But intellectually I knew that wasn't what I wanted, so I pulled back and forced all of my frustration out on the Mark. Voldemort's signature finally fled and that dominant part of me eradicated your old Mark.

"Both of your arms are in stasis because I did end up creating a new Mark." Harry sighed. "And I'm sorry for that. But it needs some time to calm down… I think."

"Well, should I even ask?" Severus said in a very resigned fashion. Draco went to lift up his shirt sleeve and when he bared his shoulder he finally saw it. An odd scaring, not unlike Harry's own, in the shape of a roaring lion. It squirmed and crackled at the lightest brush of his fingertips.

"That's it?" Draco asked.

"What else would it be? Some body modification you had forgotten you'd commissioned during your outlandish days as the Prince of Slytherin?" Snape asked dryly. Draco looked over at him, questioning.

"So… why do I have this feeling to grovel and bow down to you?" Draco finally asked.

"That's what I'm sorry about… I didn't intend on leaving _any_ kind of control aspect to the Mark in there. But part of me wanted it so bad; it ruled me as it wanted to rule you. So yeah… I kinda have power over both of you. Especially you, Draco, because honestly, I've got no attraction to Snape. No offense, sir," he said to Severus.

"None taken," Severus replied with a slight nod.

"But once I realized what was happening, I did something else. I gave you two equivalent power over me. I took what I had implanted into you, and worked it into my own scar."

"So, you have the desire to grovel?" Draco asked, unbelieving.

"Well, no. Actually, I'm not entirely sure how it all worked out. But I do have other desires…" Draco snorted and Severus had the gall to chuckle. "Not just those desires!" Harry said scandalized. "More like I want to please and protect." Draco watched as a blush crept up Harry's face from collar to hairline. "I think it is because… of the way I feel about you," he said in an oddly endearing voice.

Silence reigned in the room, dead silence, until it was completely devastated by Remus' loud laugh. "Well, it's better than being dead!" Harry, Severus and Draco just stared at him. "What?" he asked with that same infuriating happiness, relieving the tension gripping the room.

"Well, I'll just leave you three to work it all out. Lunch in a half-hour. Ta!" Remus left the room waving at them.

"Indeed, we will certainly have to determine how far this control extends. And do mark my words, Potter, I will make you pay if you so much as attempt force. In anything." Severus looked over at Harry darkly and Draco had to quell a desire to jump to the defense.

"Actually, Snape… Severus," Harry said cautiously, but Severus only grunted in response. "I want you two to keep me in check. There is something inside of me… that wants to control you and I'll need both of you to remind me of who I am. Keep me sane. Keep me myself."

"Do not worry, we will keep you in your place, Harry." Severus said Harry's name tentatively, mulling it over. Something tight within Draco unknotted.

"Yes, Harry," Draco said, glancing through his pale fringe, aware that he was trying to gain Harry's attention. "If it seems I have any more compulsions to venerate you in any way, I will throw the next solid object at your head to put you in your place. Deal?" Draco held out his hand and smiled. Harry grabbed it and gripped it tight.

"Deal, Draco," Harry said, with his most winning smile. Draco's heart melted.

"Well, I shall leave you two to… feel out how this bond works between you. Enjoy." Severus smirked, and with his usually dignity, he rose and left the two young men alone in the room. Draco knew he was no longer Severus' toy and acknowledged he never was. But Harry on the other hand…

He watched Severus leave and then turned his attention back to Harry, which was where it wanted to be anyway. His breath caught at the untamable desire burning in those green eyes. "My God," he moaned before he could stop those words. Harry's own needy noise escaped in response.

"Is this where you throw something at me?" Harry asked, his voice low and thrumming with need. Draco noticed Harry shift forward a little, his eyes intent on Draco's parted lips.

"Myself?" Draco asked, his voice high and breathless. Yes… himself. He could deal with this if he had to. It would be his burden to bear.


End file.
